


I'll Find You, No Matter What It Takes

by midnight_shipping



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, One Shot, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 15:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10767546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnight_shipping/pseuds/midnight_shipping
Summary: Ever since Newt first arrived in the bloody place, he always had the letter hidden deep inside his back pocket.





	I'll Find You, No Matter What It Takes

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [All We Have is Now](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6298480) by [xindesum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xindesum/pseuds/xindesum). 



Newt's always had the letter.

 

It was always just there. Ever since he got sent up to this terrible place all those months ago. From the moment he arrived, he felt something. A strange lump under his clothes that seemed to we weigh him down more than it should, but more importantly, it seemed familiar.

 

The boy already had enough confusion in his life to deal with. Waking up in a strange new place feeling physically and mentally drained in every way possible. A group of around 20 boys he’d never seen before in his life surrounded him from above like animals getting a new addition to their pack. Then again maybe he had met them at some point, he didn’t have a clue. Newt couldn't remember. Anything.

 

He remembered simple things, like what different animals were and how to read. He remembered what things were. How to act, how to talk, but not much else. No memory of anything involving his past life. He figured he must have the past, he seemed about 16 by the looks of him, but he couldn't recall any of it. Not his parents, friends, family, lovers. The only thing he knew was his name, Newt.

 

The boys did their best to make Newt feel at home. Gave him a tour around, showed him the ropes, taught him everything he needed to know about how the Glade works. Why they called it that he still didn’t know. Nevertheless, something seemed out of place, not quite right, missing. Like the final piece to a puzzle. Newt could never shake the feeling which burned him to his very core that this wasn't right, it wasn't where he was supposed to be, and that terrified him.

 

However Newt had always one single possession with him that gave him a glimpse into a tiny part of his life before arriving here, a small peek into what he must have done before the glade, what his life could have been if he was never sent here, a letter. Folded neatly in his pant pocket that was addressed to him, well, Dearest Newt is how it began...

 

_To: Dearest Newt_

_Also known as Isaac Newton, but you don’t like to be called that, do you?_

_I suppose I’ll start off saying this: this letter is not going to be pretty. It’s going to hurt a shit ton, for both you and me._

_For the reader, and for the writer as well._

_Who knew goodbye letters were so hard to write?_

_I fell in love with a boy named Newt when I was probably around thirteen. I can’t remember anymore; it’s been too long! I’m sixteen now, turning seventeen in a month, but I suppose you already know that. I haven’t heard your side of this story, and I do intend to later, but for now, you’ll have to deal with mine._

_From start to finish, my journey with you has been a rollercoaster. A shitty one, I’ll admit, but one that I will cherish and remember nonetheless._

_I think the thing that caught my eye the most was your accent, because hot damn, I could get drunk off of your words. I still can. Probably even more than I was younger. I seem to be a lightweight for your words if you get what I’m saying. But I suppose I’m a lightweight in general. It takes me like a shot of whiskey to feel kinda woozy; two to get me halfway there, and three to get me drunk. It takes me four before I’m grinding on everything and anything. Hopefully you, but you’d never know._

_I’m in love with you, Newt. I’m in love with the damaged world we live in because you’re the one that makes everything better. The light in the dark. The lollipop in the salad._

_Shit, that was sappy. And of course I’m writing in pen; it makes everything stay longer._

_You won’t remember everything we’ve done together, but I will, and maybe that’ll have to do for both of us. Look, I’m not trying to make you cry, but if I do, I’m sorry. It seems like I have that effect on people. Just remember that I will always be watching from the surveillance cameras. Please don’t hurt yourself too badly, I will never be able to live with myself if you get hurt. Think of me like your conscious. No, not you're filthy conscious, but the good one that’s telling you to stay safe and make the right decisions. I don’t want to be associated with sex all the time, you know._

_I will find a way to meet you again, hopefully in the maze. I will be quite angry with you when I find you in hell when I get there. I will find a way to make you remember, and hopefully by, then, you’ll be falling in love with me all over again. It’s okay if you get yourself another boyfriend or something in the maze. Maybe I should leave marks on your body before you go. So everyone knows you’re mine. I bet you’d like that. You love everything about hickeys, but you always told me not to put them in the most obvious places, since everyone would tease us._

_You’d put them everywhere on me anyway._

_We’re only sixteen, but I could love you till I die._

_The next time we’ll meet is in the second trials. I heard they're not supposed to last too long, but I don’t know._

_I’m telling you this now so you understand that I don’t want to leave you. I’d go with you halfway around the world if you wanted me to. I’m sixteen and stupidly in love with you. There are no photos for us to remember all the shit that happened, sadly, but they’ll all stored in my mind. I just wish I was as good of an artist as you. Then I could draw them out for you._

_I suppose you’d like to know who I am since you won’t remember me. My name is Thomas. Well, not really, but I don’t exactly remember my real name. I know things that I shouldn’t, I can telepathically communicate to a girl named Teresa (yeah, that sounded a lot more normal in my head), and I am a big sucker for competition. I do like the occasional alcohol, but, like I said before, I am quite the lightweight drinker. I’m actually really bad at talking in real life. Maybe I’ll get better, who knows?_

_I’ve never told anyone else this, but I’m tired of this world. I’m ready to die, I feel like I’d belong there after the things I’ve done. In fact, the king of hell would probably welcome me there._

_There are things I’ve never told you, and there are things I can’t. Most of the things I’ve never told you are also things that I can’t. Because I’d get hurt, you’d get hurt, and everyone would hate me. I hope you respect my decisions._

_I am in love with a boy named Isaac Newton, Newt for short. Every day I think about him, about his smile, his beautiful hair that changes from blond to brown every five goddamn minutes, and his voice ― oh my god that voice could send me into a state of blissful oblivion. His kisses are like a drug, I could get high off of them, and I’d never regret it. I’m in love with his accent, the way he stands, the way he dresses... I’m in love with a boy named Newt, who’s also the sexiest person alive._

_I ’m so glad that I met you. These past six years have been the best six years of my life. You are my best friend and my super hot boyfriend. I don’t know what I’d do without you._

_I love you._

_So goddamn much._

 

_PS ― it would be really cool if you took this with you to the maze. Like, hide it in your shirt or in your boxers or something. Just so you remember how much I love you._

 

Newt always kept it with him. Even after he read it for the first time. After he stained the paper with tears at the thought that somewhere someone out there loves him like this. Someone who would go to the ends of the earth just to find him, who would sacrifice everything just see him again, to remember him again.

 

So that night, sat in his surprisingly comfortable sleeping bag underneath the clear night sky of the glade, Newt swore to himself, I will find you, Thomas, no matter what it takes.

 

After that day Newt spent every living second with the piece of paper. Thinking about it, rereading it over and over again until the words were practically seared into his brain, clinging onto to them with every fiber of his being, because when it all came down to it that letter was the only thing that kept Newt going. He hated the Glade, hated not remembering, hated the Maze, hated the danger, most of all he hated seeing his friends die. That letter, that one beacon of hope reminding him that despite everything there was still someone out there who needed him, someone out there watching him that cared about him, more than anyone else in the Maze ever did. So whenever life in the Glade seemed utterly hopeless, whenever he thought about giving everything up, Newt thought of letter, and suddenly he had a reason to keep fighting.

 

Yet, at some point in every human's sorry existence, there comes a point where you just can't keep living in a fantasy. You have to wake up and realize what your life really is. That point was today.

 

Newt realized that despite the letter, despite the fact that Gladers have become like a family to him, despite every happy experience he's had since he arrived in this horrific place, he just couldn't do it anymore. What really put Newt over the edge, in the end, was that bloody letter, what it really meant. This Thomas, this person that seemed to love his with all his heart, was someone that he was never truly going to remember again. Even after years of pretending that maybe they could find each other again, maybe someday he could get out of this place and find Thomas, and maybe he would actually remember him, harsh reality finally started to sink in. This was it for the Newt, the Maze, the Glade, the confusion and amnesia, the sheer terror of it all, he was never going to escape from this place, none of them were, they were never going to remember, he was never going to see Thomas again.

 

So he hoisted himself up the ivy leading up the wall as far as his small muscles would take him, looking down at the ground below him, he was at least forty feet up, and after taking one final breath of fresh air, Newt closed his eyes and jumped.

 

He'll never return to the way he was, Newt knew that the moment he woke up in the hospital hut surrounded by the other Gladers. He was broken, and not just in the physical sense. Humans are so fragile, it took almost dying for him to truly see that. They tried to make him better, every one of them, Minho helped the most. The runner stayed with him 24/7 even after Newts constant nagging to get some rest, that's when Newt started to realize how much of a friend Minho became after this past couple of years. He really did recover, but Newt will always know what he did, what happened to him, his ankle is a constant reminder of that.

 

He couldn't be a runner anymore, that much was obvious, but in a sense, he's relieved about it. In his experience, the Maze could only cause you fear and sadness. He was perfectly content with never setting foot in that place again.

 

Newt had been spending a lot more time with Minho. The two boys grew quite close, but even that didn’t last long.

 

Their both in the map room when it happens, standing right next to each other with no space in between, legs pressing against each other. Minho turns to face Newt to tell him some information about a slight change in the section patterns, then it's as if the world comes to a complete stop, and Minho's lips are crashing into his. It takes Newt a second to really comprehend his actions, so he just stands there, arms to his sides with his lips gently pressed against his friends, Minho hands gripped tightly on the back of his neck, then everything goes back to full speed and he’s pulling away without hesitation, pushing Minho backwards and shouting things at the other boy before he even knows what to say. His mind immediately goes back to the letter, Thomas. _No, this isn't right!_ His mind screams. _What about Thomas? What if he's watching right now? What would he say?_ Then before giving himself a chance to do anything else, he's storming out the door. Not even bothering to pay attention to Minho, who was apologizing profusely behind him.

 

Newt doesn't even bother with the rest of the day, there doesn't seem to be a point anymore. He sprints back to his sleeping bag near the homestead, forgetting about the pain in his ankle completely, and quickly changes into some simple blue pj’s he found in a supply run the other week. He hastily climbs into his bag and before his brain can even process it, his hand is reaching into the back pocket of his pants and quickly latches on to the familiar piece of paper.

 

He unfolds the letter with suddenly trembling hands as if after all of the millions of times he's read the letter this time would be any different. He quickly survey's the area, making sure no one's around. After all his time in the glade, Newt never told anyone about the letter, not even Minho. They would just make fun of him for it, tease him for believing in something as cheesy and childish as love, so he never bothered with it, kept it to himself. His own little secret.

 

He read the words on the page furiously, eyes moving left to right as if his life depended on it, absorbing every word, chewing his bottom lip out of worry.

 

He stops at the final sentence on the page, the one that always gets to him, making his heart hurt just a little bit more every time he reads it.

 

_It would be really cool if you took this with you to the maze. Like, hide it in your shirt or in your boxers or something. Just so you remember how much I love you._

 

That part right there, that single sentence, written in sloppy rushed handwriting, but meaningful all the same, that is why he knows he must have loved this Thomas just as much as he loved Newt. Because whoever he was in the past wanted to hold that letter near and dear to him. Keep it with him and take it up in the Maze with him, so maybe, just maybe, he could break all the laws of the human brain and remember Thomas.

 

His mind finally snaps back to reality and he realizes that it’s already getting dark and the other graders will be coming back to the homestead soon, so with extremely unsteady hands, he slowly folds the paper back up, careful not to rip it, and tucks it gently underneath his pillow.

 

He wakes up to the sound of the box alarm already blaring in his ears. _Is it really that time again? Isn't a little early for this?_ Newt groans as he slowly rolls out of his sleeping bag and onto the fresh grass. He looks behind him at the homestead, noticing that most of the Gladers have already started their work for the day, which most of the boys have now abandoned in favor of jogging to the giant wooden trap door in the center of the Glade. _Wow that's weird, he usually never sleeps in, and why didn't anyone bother waking him up?_ He quickly shakes all the thoughts from his mind to join the other Gladers by the box. He quickly throws on some beat-up jeans and a hoodie and jogs over to where the group of boys has crowded around the still closed box.

 

Newt shoves past everyone else and unlatches the doors to the box, throwing one to the side and then the other, jumping in to welcome the new greenie without a moment's hesitation.

 

The boy is decently tall but still shorter than himself. Short, dark brown hair drenched in sweat, big brown eyes wide with confusion and fear, nicely tanned skin, like he just came back from a vacation in the Caribbean. Tiny moles and freckles randomly dotted his face and neck. He had smooth thin lips that seemed so beautiful all on their own, and a strong build with muscular arms, the greenie looked about the same age as him.

 

Newt can't seem to shake the feeling that something about his kid makes him feel comfortable, like they've known each other for years instead of just seconds.

 

The boy finally seems to notice Newt, craning his neck up to look at him, straining to focus in on his face through the beaming sun. Newt walks closer to the other boy and offers out a hand up for the greenie, eager to get to know the guy (which is particularly out of character for Newt, even though he is generally very good at displaying a calm and happy persona in front of greenies to try and make the transition easier for them, he really wasn't very all that enthusiastic about the whole routine).

 

"Names Newt, Greenie."

 

He smiles that big stupid smile he does whenever he meets someone new, like he's trying just a bit too hard. This time it's different though, somehow. This time it's genuine. The other boy hesitantly brings his hand up to accept and Newt gives it a gentle squeeze, pulling the boy up to his feet.

 

Instantly he feels like there's something special about this boy, something familiar. Like someone he's seen in a dream, someone Newt knows exists but can’t quite grasp the memory. As if it's hidden in some corner of his mind he just can't seem to access. Newt can't deny his gut instinct, the feeling that something about this is just,

right.

 

"What's your name?" Newt asks the new kid suddenly, not even aware he'd said anything until he heard the greenie started to stammer a reply.

 

"Um, uh-I'm Thomas, it's Thomas."

 

Newt’s eyes flew wide open and his pulse quickened as he tried to come to terms with what he just heard. His head was spinning and his feet felt frozen in place, he was completely consumed by the situation and he probably looked utterly ridiculous, but none of that mattered right now because all at once the missing puzzle pieces came crashing into place. Because he was here.

 

_"Thomas."_

 

Newt whispered, barely loud enough for anyone else to hear. He just needed to say it out loud, so he knew this was real. That it wasn't just a dream. This boy, he was the one who wrote the letter.

 

They were all staring at him by now. Wearing confused expressions, shouting questions at him, yelling at him to come back to earth, but that it all seemed like background noise at the moment, because Newt was here, with Thomas, the boy who loved him, holding his hand. A sense of euphoria raced through his entire body as his heart pounded against his chest. All of the sudden his body seemed to go into autopilot, he ran toward Thomas and Newt grabbed the back of his neck, crashing his lips against the other boys.

 

It was when he felt Thomas slowly begin to kiss him back, pulling Newt towards his body as if he planned to never let him go. Seeing a fire grow in the boy's eyes that he’d never seen in anyone else. At that moment Newt knew, Thomas remembered everything.

 

_“Newt.”_

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to see more of my crazy shenanigans and memes, follow my Tumblr: @midnight-shipping


End file.
